Or last year when I snapped and made my children do a prison-crew-style roadside trash detail. Ah, memories.

But this year so far, knock on wood, has been pretty fun and uneventful.

My husband, aka The Gatekeeper, with his ginormous prefrontal cortex, made us all do some goal planning for the week. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this before, but he makes us do this every time we are out of our routine, like summer and holidays. I used to hate it—I’m too impulsive and “creative” to think like that. But I’m starting to see the value in setting goals and thinking ahead for more than just What’s my next meal and what’s on TV tonight?

One of my goals for this week is to exercise five times. That’s a tall order for a slug like me.

Luckily, The Gatekeeper bought and set up a new volleyball and badminton net last weekend.

Oh yes, we’re that family now.

And guys? I have to admit…it’s pretty fun.

First of all, learning new things is really good for you.

Secondly, chasing balls and shuttlecocks all over your yard with a racquet is great cardio vascular exercise.

Thirdly, making inappropriate jokes about balls and shuttlecocks leads to uncontrollable belly laughs which stimulates your brain AND your core.

Hey, whoever named it a shuttlecock totally had it coming. I mean really. I can’t help it. I just can’t. Plus, if you have two of them? Come on. They totally look like super pointy boobs, right?

Listen, this is actually a step up for me. I’ve been calling it “bad mitten” for 44 years. I had no idea it was actually badminton. Then again, it was only last year I learned that February has two Rs. (Sweet Jesus, I’m turning into my mother.)

Anyhooo, alls I’m sayin’ is, I play badminton now. I’m a badminton player. Okay, fine, I have yet to participate in one full successful rally back and forth over the net, but by gum, I’m going to get there. They’re called goals, m’kay.

Also, apparently my knees look like “there are two babies being held hostage under my skin,” according to my ever-complimentary children. (Yes, Mom, I know…the chickens have come home to roost.) So, I’ve got that going for me.

Wow, your knees really do have faces in them. Maybe if you work up a good enough sweat playing w/ your shuttlecocks you can claim that you have the baby Jesus crying in your knee and sell tickets to religious and/or sports enthusiasts.

OMG, it does look like little babies under your skin – like one of those 3D ultrasounds. That’s a sweet party trick. And until this post, I thought it was bad mitten (spelled badmiton) too. I don’t think I’ve ever typed the word out before, so it could be auto-corrected.

Oh the knees, they show our age. How long before plastic surgeons figure out away to fix that!? Who knows, maybe they have already. We have a badminton/volley ball net too, they gave it to me last year for Mother’s Day. I concur…exhausting (embarrassingly so).

I love your spring break posts. These stories are the perfect examples of why this is the first blog I fell in love with.
The knees are cracking me up. It must be in the air. My knee was injured, BUT that didn’t stop the fruit of my loins from dishing out: “Your knee looks like one of those really ugly bald Cabbage Patch Kids. You know?” Yes, I know. Then my youngest ran and got a pair of googly eyes to stick on it. Should this be where I start to humble brag about how my kids are creative geniuses? 🙂 Ellen